


Making No Mistakes This Time

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: The Alternate Universes of FJ Weasley (Wood-Flint) [4]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, M/M, Mild Angst, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: Marcus had nearly made the biggest mistake of his life. The thought of losing what he has gives him nightmares. But they’re only nightmares.[Could be read as a standalone, or as a sequel/companion to all the others in this series.]
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Series: The Alternate Universes of FJ Weasley (Wood-Flint) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/9886
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	Making No Mistakes This Time

Marcus shot upright with as gasp. Heart hammering, he looked frantically around in the dim morning light, confused and disoriented.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

He turned to the warm body beside him in bed, tears falling from his eyes as he let out a relieved gasp. He wrapped himself around Oliver, breathing in his musky scent, pressing his lips to the man’s temple.

“You’re shaking.” Oliver’s voice was sleepy and confused as he tried to turn to face Marcus.

“‘m alright,” Marcus breathed, pulling his boyfriend closer to himself. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pushed away the last remnants of his latest nightmare. Oliver hissed and flinched.

“Looks like someone else is awake now too.” Marcus opened his eyes, his still tense muscles relaxing at the beautiful sight of the pronounced baby bump on his boyfriend’s body. He ran a hand along the rounded curve as Oliver massaged the spot where their son had kicked.

He’d been having nightmares as the due date drew closer. Nightmares of losing this. Of losing _them._ His lover and child. Losing everything to his own stupidity.

He’d made it as far as the lobby of their apartment building. The day he’d almost made the biggest mistake of his life. He’d thought it was his duty to uphold the family honour and follow his father into the Death Eater ranks. He’d always known where his family’s loyalty lay with regards to the Dark Lord. He’d grown up knowing it. And, when said Dark Lord had miraculously returned, he’d known what would be expected of him as soon as his father had told him the news. He was expected to swear fealty to the worst Dark Lord since Grindlewald.

The image of Oliver’s heartbroken face permeated his thoughts as he’d descended the stairs. Halfway across the lobby, he’d stopped. What was he doing? He didn’t even believe in the purists’ cause. He hadn’t in a very long time. Not since he’d grown up enough to take a good look at the world around him.

It would be risky, defying his father. But if he left the single best thing to ever happen to him, he may as well just let his father kill him, because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He’d turned around and ran as fast as he could back up the stairs. Opening the apartment door, his own heart broke seeing the first person he’d ever truly allowed himself to love sobbing on the floor. Letting the door shut behind him, he rushed forward and gathered Oliver into his arms, tears falling from his own eyes as he begged the man to forgive him.

“Marcus?” Oliver had looked at him like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You came back.”

Marcus had pressed a kiss to Oliver’s lips, pouring everything into it. His fear, his guilt, his love. “I almost made the worst mistake of my life.”

They’d clung to each other, crying on the floor like a couple of teenage girls. Later, when they lay in bed, exhausted from all that damned crying, Oliver had taken his hand and pressed it to his abdomen, and said in a whisper “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.” And, just like that, Marcus was crying again.

The war was still on the horizon. Despite the ministry insisting nothing was wrong, he knew what was coming. He’d convinced Oliver early on to move away from Diagon Alley, where their old apartment had been. Away from England. Marcus’ great-grandmother had originally been from Norway. He had one distant cousin who still lived there. Margit was twelve years older than Marcus and had no spouse or children. She also had no love for Marcus’ father, or his ideals. She’d given them sanctuary when they’d first fled England, even going so far as to help them set up a life here in Wizarding Norway.

The farther Oliver’s pregnancy progressed, and the longer it went without news of the British Ministry taking the Dark Lord’s return seriously, the more on edge Marcus became. He prayed, to whatever deity would listen, that his little family would remain safe. He prayed that, when the dust settled from the inevitable war in England, there would be a bright world for his son to grow up in.

-30-


End file.
